Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Final thoughts on the semester

We've looked at a lot of technology and a lot of theory over the course of this semester. Bogost's theories on procedural rhetoric and the issues of videogames as art are the main strands to understand in this course, as well as the questions of how to produce interesting and engaging media for teaching and rhetorical purposes. It's important to understand these theories as the world seems to be approaching interactive media and serious games as solutions to real world problems. I've long since understood how games are produced, and how to use the overt messages most educational games simply place over traditional game interfaces. Math Blaster seems to be one of the more interesting educational games, in that it is more than just tic tac toe with math symbols. Still, an engaging game interface that forces the player to think the way a developer want the player it think is much more of an interesting concept. The McGame comes to mind as an effective, if not overwhelming, piece of procedural rhetoric.

I've begun applying Bogost's theories to the theories of Prensky and Laurel, especially since I and my team almost unknowingly combined those theories in our latest rich media website. We combined rich media content with a carefully crafted system of main pages. The main pages use a subtle procedure to ensure that users know where to go to access the information they require, while placing ownership of the experience in the user's hands. Early tests have explained that this kind of interface is effective, and that our users not only can complete their tasks quickly and easily, but that they are also convinced of some of the more intangible aspects of our graduate program. The information available on the official webpage is one thing, but the user-based page gives visitors a better idea of what is happening in our program, and what it feels like to be a student in the program. I helped to influence the rhetorical decisions we made during our meetings by incorporating Bogost's theories of procedural rhetoric into our design and explaining how it works. The testing proves that these theories, when carefully applied, help our design and help our message.

There is also a lot to take away from this class with regards to my own research. My primary area of focus is in game studies, so understanding the prinicples of procedural rhetoric is absolutely critical. It's important when attempting to understand how a discourse community works that a researcher understands the basics of the community's rhetoric. Procedural rhetoric, while arguably a new concept, pervades the gaming culture. Even gamers who don't know or understand procedural rhetoric itself still recognize the key points when I talk with them about my research. By putting a name on a phenomenon gamers already understand, Bogost helps to legitimize their discourse community. This is absolutely critical when examining on form of discourse this community uses. I will be examining this concept throughout the course of my research, not only for my thesis but also for the new Gaming-across-the-curriculum project I've been assigned to develop.

Essentially, this class has been critical to my development as a game theorist. It's been an exciting ride, and I can't wait to see what comes next in the field.

Saturday, December 6, 2008

Process Report Concerning the Design and Construction of Woolf World: a Virtual Bloomsbury

This is my process report regarding my participation in designing and constructing a Second Life replica of the Omega Workshop and Monk's House. Some portions of this paper were abridged due to their sensitive nature. I'm publishing the paper here in case my insights into virtual environment design and team management may be of assistance to other designers and fledgling project leaders.

Sean J. Callot
Dr. Holmevik
RCID 813: Special Topics: Videogames
9 December 2008

Process Report Concerning the Design and Construction of Woolf World: a Virtual Bloomsbury
A significant part of the RCID Videogames course required teams of graduate students to design and build constructions in Second Life. Both of the main teams were assigned to reproduce idealized versions of real world buildings using the virtual construction palette available in the Second Life design suite. For some groups, this posed unusual challenges not present using other assisted drafting programs. As project leader, my team overcame these challenges and successfully designed and constructed an effective representation of the Omega Workshop and Virginia Woolf’s home, Monk’s House.

I have been aware and tangentially associated with the planning of this construction since long before I began the RCID Special Topics: Videogames class. Drs. Jan Holmevik and Elisa Sparks discussed the tools and techniques necessary to build a kind of virtual Bloomsbury, allowing students, teachers, and enthusiasts of modernist English literature a place in the virtual environment of Second Life. The idea was to build a virtual classroom for the focused study of how and where Virginia Woolf and her contemporaries, friends, and colleagues lived and worked. A construction of this nature would give visitors a solid feel for the environment and help to focus their discourse. If an avatar sits in a chair in a construction of the same room Virginia Woolf sat and contemplated the affairs of her time, the human controlling the avatar may be more easily absorbed in the discourse of Woolf’s world and work. Additionally, as I learned from numerous discussions with Dr. Sparks, the project’s sponsoring client, Woolf enthusiasts tend to be very detail-oriented and obsessed with experiencing as much of Woolf’s life as possible. Giving these enthusiasts an authentic environment in which to enjoy their passion is a great honor, not to mention a great experience in 3D virtual design and construction.

My team of RCID PhD candidates selected me, a lowly MAPC student, to lead and direct the construction of our virtual Bloomsbury representation. I had built a couple of other constructions in Second Life, but nothing on this scale. I took a very phased approach toward planning, designing and building our construction. We decided, after analysis of images and schematics researched and prepared by Dr. Sparks’ modernist London class. Her students provided us with a significant volume of information, which Dr. Sparks herself presented to us with suggestions and recommendations. My team focused not only on what would be the most interesting and challenging to build, but also what would be the most feasible to accomplish in our short time table. Initially, our plan was to build each of the three locations Dr. Sparks suggested, arranging buildings carefully around our development island to produce distinct environmental conditions relevant to each building. However, after realizing our skills in construction and design in SL construction were not as well developed as I had hoped, we decided to scale back our initial design, focusing on the Omega Workshop and the artistic styles those artists embodied. After learning about potential legal concerns with a second location, Monk’s House, Virginia Woolf’s home, we decided to include a significantly modified version of this building in our overall design. Decisions of this kind epitomize my team’s drive and ability to change a limitation into an opportunity. Since we had a three-story block of flats from Fitzroy Square in London, and since we were only using the ground floor, we decided to build a replica of the living room from Monk’s House using the remaining space.

As project leader, my job began with doling out responsibilities to my team members. Beginning with the design document and assigning overall responsibilities for the construction itself, I took each member’s abilities and professional and academic backgrounds into consideration. Some team members are very skilled at summarizing overall design strategies while others are more focused on details. I ensured that no single team member was assigned any more work than they could handle, save for my own workload. My leadership style very much follows the US Army leadership ethos of “Be, Know, Do.” By taking on a sizeable portion of the work for myself, I feel my team members were more likely to swiftly and efficiently complete their own work. After all, how would it look to have a master’s student out perform a PhD student?

In keeping with this leadership style and my personal work ethic, I built as much of the external structure as I supervised. One team member focused on designing the external walls while another focused on entry points and external aesthetics. I lent a hand where I was needed and spent a lot of time figuring out what textures would represent the real world feel of the Omega Workshop block. A couple of team members did most of the heavy lifting in this portion of the project; I served merely as an assistant and “look and feel” designer. When technical problems arose, I acted as troubleshooter. Rather than simply getting into the system itself and hammering the problem out (which I also did), I set policies and guidelines, derived from my personal experience, research from the SL community, and suggestions from Dr. Holmevik. After a couple of hiccups in the construction, our superstructure was built.

Luckily, my colleagues working with furniture design and construction worked virtually autonomously. On more than one occasion, my desires for textures and furniture were addressed before I even know what I needed. One team member's resourcefulness and performance was exceptional, and his ability to develop innovative solutions to problems before they arose was indispensible. Our combined efforts produced a fantastic representation of the Workshop, and even included several pieces of originally designed furniture that embodies the design concepts of the original artists.

The design and construction of Monk’s House, however, fell on half the team’s shoulers, including my own. In the final weeks of the project, when I saw that the Omega Workshop was progressing well, I turned my attention to figuring out how to move a portion of a country home into an urban landscape. A couple of team members, including myself, took turns designing different aspects of the Monk’s House living room, our final distillation of the Monk’s House experience. Two of us put in the most work on designing and building the living room, since the rest had a good handle on what had to be done with finishing Omega. My partner built a teleporter to access the living room, while I, again, focused on the look and feel of the house. As project lead, I fielded revision requests and input from Dr. Sparks, tweaking and polishing every aspect of the living room. I attribute this as simply executing the duties of a project lead for a project of this scale.

I would like to take this opportunity to mention one thing. For as much difficulty as Dr. Sparks gave our team during the design and major construction phases of this project, her input was invaluable. She provided some period-accurate furniture and textures, corrected some of our misconceptions on Omega-style artwork, and helped us gain a sense of context that we then applied to our overall design. She was an active client, and without her our project would not be as complete as we would have liked.

Large-scale projects in a virtual environment are difficult. In much the same way that Unix and Linux servers are designed to restrict unauthorized access to root directories, SL restricts access of objects in the world based on the permissions embedded into the objects’ code. While we did not have the same kinds of problems the Patient Room group had with editing permissions, we did have to adapt to this unfamiliar procedure. We ended up using those permissions to set up a workflow, which helped me maintain accountability of what tasks had been completed, which objects needed editing, and who needed to get on the ball. In future projects, I’ll use this procedure more effectively to design the group workflow and ensure that team members are not scrambling to figure out who’s portions of the project are junked and why.

I learned a lot about project management, time management, and 3D virtual design as my team struggled with this project. The tools and techniques I’ve picked up from this assignment will shape how I conduct business in my career and in future projects. I had a great time working with modernist London, but I’m looking forward to exploring virtual environments for a few weeks before getting back to building them.

United Fronts: The Procedural Rhetoric of Cooperative Gaming in World of Warcraft

This is the complete text of the (hopefully) final draft of my seminar paper for this course. This paper examines the procedures designed within World of Warcraft to encourage cooperative gameplay. This paper applies the theories of Ian Bogost, as well as several other major theorists in modern rhetoric, to a specific case study. I've been considering, analyzing, and examining WoW in preparation for this study, which I don't mind saying kind of put a damper on my favorite past time. Still, I think it is important to note what Blizzard has done, why they have done it, and what implications these procedures may have on future game designs.


The United Fronts: The Procedural Rhetoric of
Cooperative Gaming in World of Warcraft

Sean J. Callot
Prepared for Dr. Jan Rune Holmevik
9 December 2008

America was founded on the concept of community action and group participation. Sarah Vowell explains that Massachusetts’ first governor, John Winthrop, stirred his crew of colonists to suffer and struggle together to build “a city on a hill” in the New World (Vowell). Centuries later, First Lady Hillary Clinton explained, “it takes a village to raise a child,” further demonstrating America’s strong community ties and how they are critical to the future of our country. On November 4, 2008, the people of the United States elected a community leader, Barack Obama, to the presidency on promises to unite people toward a common good. The vast majority of jobs posted on internet job search websites emphasize communication and effective teamwork. All of these examples emphasize the importance of working together to overcome challenges, ranging from local and personal to national and international. America is a network of communities, as any middle school social studies student can readily explain.

It comes to no surprise, then, that this concept of the importance of community participation has pervaded the gaming community. Role-playing games, beginning with Gary Gygax’s Dungeons and Dragons and continuing to today’s massively multiplayer online role-playing games (MMORPGs), embrace this all-American concept of cooperation to develop and overcome challenges. The most popular MMORPG on the market today, Blizzard Corporation’s World of Warcraft (WoW) embodies cooperative gaming in almost every aspect of gameplay. While it is completely possible to enjoy the game without playing with others, Blizzard embraced Ian Bogost’s concept of procedural rhetoric to great effect. World of Warcraft encourages the player to engage in community participation through the implementation of several systems scaled for cooperative gameplay, including the economic system, the trade skills, the talent tree system, and the group quest structures.

Theoretical Constructs:
In order to explain how these systems mandate player interaction, it is important to understand what we mean when we discuss these types of systems and procedures. Ian Bogost has extensively examined different kinds of systems game developers have used in order to elicit certain desired responses from their games. In his book, Persuasive Games, Bogost explains how some games are built as tools of persuasion. Their designers control the player’s interaction with the story or system by designing controls that restrict certain behaviors and reward others.
Brenda Laurel sets the theoretical groundwork for Bogost’s theories in her book, Computers as Theater. In her theory, user interface design closely mimics the actions of a stage crew and performers producing a play for the audience. What the audience sees is a representation of the lines of computer code (or the “script”) performed on the desktop of their computers (“stage”) by the program’s external output (“actors”). The programmers serve as stage managers, directors, and other “backstage” roles, whose actions are only seen by the audience as the actor’s performance on the stage.

Bogost’s manipulation of this metaphor replaces Laurel’s faceless backstage performers, who merely create and interpret the data for representation, with players who have a clear agenda for what the audience should be drawing from this virtual performance. The backstage crews prepare and produce a persuasive story, which results in the actions on the “stage” telling a very clear persuasive story. In other instances, these crewmembers provide the audience with a limited set of controls, in some instances, which allow for audience participation into the running of the program they are watching. While most people can create a game with a message in the story line or quest structure, Bogost explains that these kinds of games are often seen as too heavy handed and fail at their attempts to persuade.

However, the games that embed a clear procedural rhetoric into the player interface tend to push their message a little more clearly. For example, Bogost explains that the design team behind The McGame built an overwhelming game experience by designing the controls to only allow a certain number of anti-social but accurate managerial decision options for handling situations. The response for dealing with an unruly counter attendant is to terminate his employment and hire a new smiling face to sling burgers. This approach demonstrates to the player how managers of hamburger franchises stereotypically handle poorly performing employees. Use of the termination control also prompts a response from labor representatives, which can hurt the hamburger franchises’ overall performance. The player gains a clear picture of the difficulties of a franchise manager in maintaining market share and addressing environmental, political, and labor issues.

Bogost proposes that these kinds of control choices, when used effectively, can produce a clear persuasive argument. When players are restricted to handful of limited command choices, such as in The McGame, the audience gets a sense of how difficult those choices can be. This fosters a closer understanding of the overarching problem, and demonstrates how difficult it can be to address that problem.

On the other hand, some games are designed to provide the player with not only a serious problem but also a set of tools to address that problem. Political campaigns have used this approach on several different occasions, including John McCain’s presidential campaign. McCain’s campaign produced the simple Space Invaders clone Pork Invaders with the expressed intent of demonstrating a stylized version of John McCain’s spending plan. The player controls a “McCain for President” as the avatar, which fires “Veto Pens” at flying pigs. Players are rewarded for their diligence at vetoing the pigs, which represent spending bills, with a running tally of “money saved.” Completing a level rewards the player with side-by-side comparison screens outlining the key differences between McCain’s economics plan and his rival’s plan. This game not only gives the player an understanding of McCain’s politics, but also empowers the player by demonstrating, in abstract terms, how simple the McCain plan can be.

Game designers are cognizant of the power they have when allowing or restricting player controls in their game environments. A search of the Blizzard Corporation website’s job postings offers a sizeable quantity of information about user interface developers, with an emphasis on coding language and game experience. This latter qualification is, presumably, to ensure that the programmers Blizzard hires will not only know how to make things work technically, but what should be possible and how to make the interface work within the metaphor of the game. By playing a game with an eye toward the way the rules of the game are constructed, and how players interact with those rules, one may see that the controls are not designed idly. In the case of Blizzard’s current main product, World of Warcraft, these procedural choices are very clearly designed to force players to interact with the larger gaming community in order to enjoy all of the content the game offers.

The Character Creation System

Richard Bartle explains in his article, “Hearts, Clubs, Diamonds, Spades: Players Who Suit MUDs,” that players of different walks of life demonstrate different play styles. Some players, Bartle’s “hearts” or WoW’s roleplayers, prefer to build connections with other players. Other players, Bartle’s “spades” or WoW’s player-versus-environment (PVE) players prefer to explore and engage the environment. Other players search for treasure, a primary action that describes Bartle’s “diamonds” or WoW’s “farmers.” Finally, there are players who just like to beat other players senseless. Bartle calls these players “clubs,” while WoW players refer to this play style as player-versus-player (PVP). Some combinations of the classes and races work better than others based on their play style. However, Blizzard made the choice to limit the amount of initial information players receive during character creation in order to encourage communication with seasoned players.

When a player first installs his/her copy of WoW and creates that first avatar, the display offers a suite of character creation controls for the player to choose from. Each of the eight races in the original WoW release, as well as the two additional races available in the Burning Crusade expansion, have a set of special racial abilities and a limited set of class roles those characters may pursue. Three text boxes are displayed on the left side of the character creation screen, each providing a limited explanation of some aspect of the game’s rules and what options are available for the player. The topmost box explains the two factions available for player selection, either Alliance or Horde. This explanation is simple and provides very little information about the goals of the factions or how they interact with each other. If, as in the case of this researcher, the player wishes to play in cooperation with his/her friends, the player must select the same faction as those friends. There is no out of play chat channel available within the game to discuss this option, although players often use external chat programs, message boards, or other forms of communication to coordinate this outside of the WoW universe.

The second box gives a brief explanation of what each race’s special abilities are. This is accomplished with a short statement briefly outlining the background of the race, attached to a bulleted list explaining, in abstract, non-playable terms, roughly what the selected race’s special abilities are. This listing helps give a seasoned player an idea of what character race they want to play, but there is no explanation of what abilities are passive (always on) and which are active (requiring player input to activate). The previously uninitiated player wanting to build a character whose racial abilities coincide with their desired vocation, and vice versa, can attempt through trial and error which roles work best under different circumstances, or again turn to external sources of information.

While the explanation of the races of the WoW universe, Azeroth, is common when examined against similar game types, such as Dungeons and Dragons or Everquest, the class system breaks from this gaming tradition in a reasonably startling way. After selecting a race that the player may find interesting and engaging, the player is restricted to a limited list of class roles from which to choose. The humans, described as “adaptable” in their racial explanation, have a wide variety of roles to play, from the bloodthirsty warrior to the divinely attuned, primarily healing priest. The diminutive, arcane attuned gnomes, on the other hand, are offered magic casters with no divine power. Gnome players are offered melee roles, including warriors and the agile, stealthy rogues, but they are still restricted from any main healing class.

Again, there is a text box present to explain what each class’ primary role is in the game. These descriptions are short and, while they convey some important information about each class’ abilities, they do not offer any in depth information or describe how each class interacts with other classes on the battlefield. While this encourages players to try out different classes and races as they begin their game experiences in order to find a character that best matches their play style, there is a significant body of player-generated information available to help players determine what kinds of characters they enjoy, why they enjoy those character types, and how best to build those characters and play with them.

The amount of data available from the player community and supported by Blizzard’s website, as the official World of Warcraft user forums are, help to compensate for the lack of information available from the in-game character creation page. Players looking for the best combination of class, race, and play style often examine this body of information in order to determine what they like to do best, or they are forced to play through various combinations of characters to determine which they like the best. Over the course of my research, my colleagues and I engaged in several discussions of character creation. We discussed many different combinations of personality type, play style, and which class/race combinations would work best given the circumstances. Through these discussions, two things became clear. First, my colleagues and I determined that our play styles were very different and that coincided with our choices of races and classes (though we all chose female characters, which, in game terms, is merely an aesthetic choice). More technically minded players tended to select characters that required a lot of careful analysis and oversight, such as mages or healers. Aggressive players, who represent Bartle’s spades, tended to design characters that can deal a lot of damage. I prefer playing characters that can protect and defend other characters, putting my character’s body in between my comrades and danger. While there are psychological issues that may address these character choices, they demonstrate the variety of personalities and how those personalities can each be addressed and rewarded with a character that fits each player’s desires.

Crafting

One of the first things a player notices when play begins that the character’s starting weapons and equipment look shabby. For a new paladin, his two-handed mace looks like a tree trunk duct taped to a broom handle. A new mage or warlock carries a worn cruciform dagger and wears a patchwork gown. These characters look very different from an epic-level character decked out in full spiked plate armor or robes spangled with stars. Between level one and level 80 are numerous wardrobe changes, complete with attached ability increases and other combat-oriented bonuses.

The reasoning behind weapon, armor, and equipment choices is well documented on forums and in third-party game guides. Most of these items are either found during quests or purchased from the Auction House (more on this follows later). However, there are plenty of players who make their own items through WoW’s system of craft skills. Each character has the opportunity to train in their choice of two professions. These professions may be chosen from three so-called “gathering” skills, such as skinning, mining, or herbalism; or from “production” skills, including tailoring, blacksmithing, leatherworking, jewelcrafting, inscription, or engineering. Characters may also opt to select enchanting, which includes both gathering and production abilities. Some characters prefer to select a pair of professions that will directly benefit their characters, such as casters making their own clothing from the tailoring skill, or warriors making their own armor from metals gathered using the mining skill and forged using a blacksmith’s hammer. Most of the time, this tends to be a very useful system of augmenting a character’s ability and making a little extra money by selling their wares either to vendors or on the Auction House. Players simply gather the materials they need from the environment (skinning animals, picking herbs, etc.) and fashion their shiny new gear by themselves.

There are certain recipes for each profession, however, that require components that any one player cannot produce on their own. For example, jewelers, engineers, tailors and blacksmiths eventually gain access to powerful recipes that require a mineral called arcanite. Arcanite is a mineral that is created by enchanters from minerals supplied by miners. According to WoWWiki.com, a third party wiki dedicated the deeper workings of Azeroth, enchanters have absolutely no use for arcanite in their craft. Why would enchanters ever bother using expensive materials to create a bar of arcanite that their class has absolutely no use for?

Every profession seems to have a recipe similar to arcanite in its absolute uselessness to the crafting character. Blacksmithing offers iron belt buckles, which blacksmiths have no use of. Several tailoring recipes call for leather and metal components, which a tailor, by virtue of the limit of two professions per character, cannot hope to produce. Characters who pursue virtually any of the professions will, at some point, find a recipe that requires components their attached gathering skill cannot provide. It is easy to bypass these recipes, but in some instances recipes that require odd components are critical to progression within the profession. These “cross-profession” recipes, to coin a phrase, are also very potent. Blacksmithing offers a superior set of mail armor around level 30 that requires a set of equivalent level leather armor. Several of the message boards around the WoW community report that this set of armor is critical for close combat characters, or “tanks,” to survive level-appropriate encounters with reduced downtime from healing. In order to become the highly successful in their profession as well as their class, players have to find some way to locate the materials for their “cross-profession” recipes.

The most obvious way, since the materials needed for “cross-profession” recipes are almost universally character-created items, is to contact a character of the desired profession and ask them for the materials. This requires a lot of communication, searching, and cooperation amongst a wide variety of players. Guilds, large communities of players who work together, offer the wide variety of players who have selected a wide variety of professions. These guilds, when they actively work together, share materials and produce the crafted equipment each player needs to fit into their niche within the community. Essentially, guilds do offer a fantastic way for players to succeed in their professions and have full access to their “cross-profession” recipes.

The Auction House

Another, much more popular way to address “cross-profession” recipes, as well as make some much-needed coin, is to head to any of the player’s faction’s city and enter the Auction House. The Auction House is a system of interlocking player-generated auctions that allow players to buy and sell unneeded equipment and materials to other players. The Auction House is set up with each auctioned item classified into broad categories, with an easy to use browsing and bidding system. Each profession has its own listing for recipes found in the world, raw materials, and end products. An economist could have a fantastic time examining the market forces at play in setting prices for the Auction House, and how best to buy and sell character-created and world drop items (items found from killing enemies in the world).

Of course, there is a drawback to engaging in purchasing items from the Auction House. On the one hand, buying recipes and raw materials for profession training is expedient, but it is also expensive. For example, the market value at the time of this study for a piece of linen cloth is about 1 silver piece. This cloth is usually found on low-level humanoid enemies in the world in stacks of between two and five. According to a tailoring progression guide found on third-party sites (Thott), a player needs to find roughly 150 pieces of linen cloth for efficient progression through the profession’s recipe listing. This means that a character can either kill, on average, about 200 humanoid enemies (based on an average drop rate 60%, or three pieces for every five enemies, according to thottbot.com), or purchase those necessary pieces of linen from the Auction House for a total cost of one gold and 50 silver pieces. For a lower level character, this cost is prohibitive if taken on alone, when enemies only reward a character with a few copper pieces. At an average coin drop rate between levels one and ten of only about 6 copper pieces per enemy, a character would need to kill about 2,500 enemies, not counting the sale of unusable world drop items to a vendor. This long example generally means that, for a low level character trying to improve their profession quickly, the items they can either kill every humanoid enemy they see for a couple of hours (an action known as grinding), quest and sell all of the items they collect for a couple of hours in order to gather the money they need to purchase the necessary cloth, or they can combine these techniques, which is still time-consuming. A colleague of mine, who is much better at math than I am, determined that progressing in a profession in this manner is “tedious.”

Later in the game, however, the Auction House becomes all but indispensible. Linen cloth is a relatively easy to find item in the world. Rare quality weapons, armor, and crafting materials are, as their name implies, much more difficult to find in the world. In order to build an effective combination of weapons and armor, with class-appropriate ability enhancements, characters often turn to the Auction House to find their desired items. Sometimes the item a character needs to get those extra few points of damage per strike, or that handful of extra health or armor points, requires significantly more effort than a player is willing to expend. In this case, the Auction House fills the gap. If a warlock finds a rifle that he can’t use but a hunter could put to great use, it makes sense to sell that rifle to a hunter. Hundreds of hunters browse the Auction House every day, so the chances of the warlock receiving a good price for his find are pretty high. Multiply this situation by the ten million registered players who play and enjoy WoW, and it is easy to see how the Auction House fills a very important procedural role in improving community participation. If a player finds something they don’t particularly want, they can auction it to the highest bidder and make some extra coin. If a player needs a piece of equipment, and has participated in the system by selling unwanted equipment, she should have enough money to bid or buyout the auctioned item they need. The system reinforces participants and encourages their further participation not only in the game, but also in the community.

Talent Trees and Abilities

In addition to gear, a player has the option of adding additional abilities, both passive and active, to a character in order to customize and develop a highly capable member of their class and faction. These abilities are enabled by either learning them through class trainers or by specializing their characters through talents. Beginning at level 10, each character gains one talent point per level, each of which can be allocated to specific abilities on one of three talent trees. Each class has three talent trees, and each tree focuses on one of three specializations in the class. For example, hunters can specialize as marksmen (increased damage at distance), survival (increased individual survivability, specializing in traps and other nasty tricks), or beastmaster (specializing in improving their pets’ strengths). By reading the message boards and testing out each of the specialties, players can determine which talent tree best fits their character’s needs.

The specialization of abilities within these techniques is generally centered on either group play or solo play. A hunter who specializes in survival or beastmaster generally is more capable in a solo role. The hunter can kill enemies, or have her pet kill enemies, faster than the enemies can kill her or her pet. Hunters cannot take a lot of damage, so any kind of mitigation, such as improved melee damage (for enemies who get inside their harder-hitting ranged weapons’ effective rage), improved dodging (you can’t kill what you can’t hit), or stronger abilities for their pets (why take damage when your pet dragon can take it for you?), can all help expedite gameplay and character progression. Hunters who specialize in marksmanship, on the other hand, tend to be better suited toward group play, since all of their efforts are focused on their ability to put arrows into targets at distance. When you have another character keeping the enemy’s attention away from you, you are better capable of doing the maximum amount of damage to that enemy. This technique of “tank and spank” is common with group tactics.

Simply making these options available for characters is one thing. Characters are perfectly capable of mixing and matching talents and abilities to fit their playstyle. However, in order to unlock the strongest talent-based abilities, a character has to invest a lot of time and effort into each talent tree. A character progressing through level 80 is allocated just enough talent points to unlock one complete talent tree and most of one secondary tree. As Burke teaches with his concepts of orientation and terministic screens, to select one talent or ability excludes other options. This is also true for the ability command interface, which, using the default key mapping requires the player to select twelve single key commands to prefer. A hunter who specializes in ranged encounters generally maps her keys to activate her twelve favorite on-demand attacks. In a harsh fight against several enemies, either in solo play or group play, having the best possible collection of combat commands at a player’s fingertips can mean the difference between victory and death-related downtime. The WoW instruction manual and in-game support offer no information about these command options, so a player has to either rely on his own experience or take the more expeditious route of communicating with other players. Chances are, when a player learns important information from a more knowledgeable colleague, that player will contact their new friend for in-game partnerships.

Group Quests, Instances, and Raids

All the communication, cooperation, and group participation espoused and suggested, either passively as with talents or professions, or overtly as with the Auction House, prepares players for their first large-scale cooperative encounters. Most players first determine the need for additional support in their gameplay the first time they encounter an enemy with gold trim around their in-game portraits. These enemies are known as elites, and boast higher hit points and damage potential than standard enemies. The first time, and indeed the first three times, an unsuspecting character tries to engage an elite on his own, that character will, more often than not, find himself running his spirit form back to his corpse to try again. The odds of a single character killing an elite of equal level are exceptionally low. When paired with another player or two of equal level, those odds increase substantially. Quests that target elite enemies are often labeled as group quests, with a suggested number of players included in the quest text. The rewards for quests of this difficulty are greater than for an average quest, as is the treasure an elite enemy drops when it is killed. The allure of increased quest reward, including money, gear, and experience, is often enough to pull together quick groups of a couple of players. Blizzard even provided a quest sharing protocol to facilitate group quest organization and participation.
Group quests, however, are simply a microcosm of much larger group efforts. Blizzard developed a variety of caves and dungeons, filled with elites and vast riches. The environmental content within these dungeons is much richer and better styled than the world outside, with background sounds, beautifully designed caverns and intricate hallways and rooms. Players encounter enemies they’ve never seen before, with challenging combination attacks and improved social cooperation. While in the main world enemies tend to operate individually or in pairs, the denizens of dungeons rush the player characters much more aggressively with large mobs of elites. These encounters will kill single, unsupported, equivalent level characters in short order. The only way to successfully enjoy all of the rich content and have an opportunity at the valuable equipment in a dungeon is to go into the encounter with a group of four other skilled, like-minded players. When a group of five enters a dungeon, the players in that group face a set of monsters and traps that is specific for those players. Multiple groups can enter multiple instances of the dungeon, allowing each group to face the dungeon without competing for kills with other groups.

Note: It is possible for a high level character to “push” a lower level character through a dungeon, but this practice of “power-leveling” is outside the scope of this examination.

Even the difficulties presented by dungeons pale in comparison to the ultimate challenges Blizzard produced for WoW. Where five characters can, with difficulty, complete a level-appropriate dungeon, there are 25 and 30-man dungeons, called raids, which can eliminate even the most skilled groups. Raids focus on killing the hardest, meanest, best-programmed boss characters in the game world. These monsters, including dragons and daemon kings, have fantastically over-powered combat skills and spells, and can often summon additional elites to assist in their defense. The rewards for these raids are the greatest available in the game, ranging from epic-level weapons and armor to piles of gold. However, the only way to successfully attempt these challenges is with a very large, very well organized group of skilled and specialized characters.

Forming a group to attempt the challenges of a group quest, dungeon, or raid can often be as difficult as working through the dungeon itself. The easiest way to do this is to serve in a guild that actively engages in group play, since these often offer large pools of players who love nothing more than a challenging game experience. Guilds also help defray the costs of these encounters by pooling resources, including money for repairs, powerful equipment, and healing potions and elixirs. These communities even offer material benefits of membership, including guild-specific tabards and access to community events. After all, the die-hard players who participate in guild raids and dungeon runs still like to indulge their “heart.” Guild communities, according to several players I interviewed in preparation for this examination, are the best way to get the most out of the player versus environment, and even player versus player, content in WoW.

The drawback of guild participation is that guild members have lives outside the game world. Sometimes players simply are not available for a raid, or don’t like a certain dungeon instance. In these cases, Blizzard offers an in-game chat channel that spans the server, allowing any character on any continent to contact any other character with the expressed intent of forming a group. There are even looking for group (LFG) and looking for more (LFM) protocols embedded in the game program. These protocols allow characters to publically post which dungeons, group quests, or raids they would like to take on, and allow other players to browse what classes and characters are interested in participating in those group challenges, respectively. Participation in both of these systems is entirely voluntary.

Just as guilds offer benefits and drawbacks based on availability of players, the LFG chat channel and protocols have their own drawbacks. The difficult nature of group challenges, such as a dungeon run, are very demanding on even the most skilled players. Players who are not familiar with the controls or party communication options, such as party chat or voice over IP (VOIP) communication systems, can weaken a team. It has been my experience, both in game encounters and real world combat situations, that effective communication is key to survival. Additionally, groups assembled solely from the LFG protocol do not offer information on the strengths or weaknesses of each member. Immature players, players who are not skilled in their class abilities, players who enter an instance only to complete short-term goals and not finish the instance, or players who selfishly take all equipment for themselves tend to detract from the group gaming experience. After all, no one wants to play with players who do not work well in group encounters.

In order for a character to enjoy all of the content Blizzard spent millions of dollars and thousands of man hours developing, as well as gain access to the most powerful and best looking equipment in the game, playing with a well organized and skilled group of players is essential. The gameplay protocols available, including guild structures and the LFG system, provide the procedures necessary to form and effectively use these groups. Blizzard designers, by examination of the content and tools made available as well as the restrictions and requirements for accessing that content, engaged in powerful procedural rhetoric. The goal of all of these procedures, from the quest system to the group challenge content, is to influence players to participate in cooperative gameplay. This is logical based on the nature of massively multiplayer gameplay, where millions of players have the opportunity to play together. The designers produced exceptional pieces of procedural rhetoric to facilitate this logic.

Conclusion

This examination of the cooperative procedures of World of Warcraft has been a pet project not only of mine but also of several my professors and colleagues. The research has spanned over a year of gameplay, conversations with fellow players, and investigation of secondary sources. Discussing why players select their classes, professions, and group encounters, my colleagues and I have learned that, as Bogost explains, learning how one system works helps to understand how other systems work. By examining the procedural decisions the design team made during the development of WoW, we are able to understand not only how games are played but how the lessons learned from the real world can effect decisions made in the game world, and vice versa. Players who are experienced in making leadership decisions, such as combat leaders or project managers, tend to make effective decisions in participating in group dynamics and manipulating protocols that facilitate cooperative gaming. Players who learn the protocols before learning leadership skills often learn how to manipulate similar systems to garner greater group goals. Bogost explains that this commutative principle of procedural knowledge may be explained as procedural literacy, which bridges the gap between constructivist and behaviorist pedagogical theory (Bogost 241). Students who play games, as Bogost and Gee explain, tend to learn not only how to address challenges within the game in creative ways using the procedures available, but also how problem solving techniques learned in these games may be applied to the outside world.

There is still much research in this field to be done. There is very little to no research showing any correlation between successful participation in cooperative gameplay, as demonstrated in WoW, and successful participation and leadership potential in real world scenarios. However, enough research has been undertaken demonstrating a potential for the United States Armed Forces to develop and use cooperative games in training some of their most skilled and specialized combat troops. My own experience with these training aids is limited, but these tools provide combat leaders with communication and tactical command experience in very realistic exercises. Not only are they an enjoyable change of pace for the soldiers who participate in these exercises, they are much cheaper and less dangerous than fielding soldiers in combat environments.

It may be possible to use programs and procedures similar to those found in WoW to teach other professionals about cooperation, teamwork, and effective leadership techniques. By focusing on the nature of cooperation as the procedures examined here, and the lessons these procedures teach players about larger cooperation effects, game developers may be able to produce a kind of massively multiplayer management training game. Such a project would be well received by proponents of non-traditional corporate instruction, such as Marc Prensky. Prensky explains that traditional instructional material is boring, which detracts from the learning experience. Enjoyable training, such as a remediated version of WoW, is “far more effective” than traditional training (Prensky 15). The key to developing an instructional program that is entertaining as well as effective is to focus on the procedural rhetoric in the same manner Blizzard’s team of developers did when producing WoW. By subtly nudging players into cooperative gaming encounters, Blizzard not only improved their membership numbers, as well as their bottom line, but also facilitate numerous interpersonal partnerships and relationships. The in-game experiences players encounter through the course of their play, as I learned through my research and experiences, are only made richer through sharing those experiences with friends and colleagues.

Works Cited
Bartle, R. “Hearts, Clubs, Diamonds, and Spades: Players Who Suit MUDs.” The Game Design Reader. Ed. Salen, K. and Zimmerman, E. MIT Press. Cambridge. 2005.
Blizzard Corporation. World of Warcraft. Computer software. 2004.
Blizzard Corporation. World of Warcraft: The Burning Crusade. Computer software. 2007.
Blizzard Corporation. World of Warcraft: Wrath of the Lich King. Computer software. 2008.
Blizzard Corporation. World of Warcraft (en) Forums. http://forums.wow-europe.com/index.html 2004. Accessed 23 October 2008.
Bogost, I. Persuasive Games: The Expressive Power of Video Games. MIT Press. Cambridge. 2008.
Brunetto, T. Personal interview. 12 September – 30 November, 2008.
Brunetto, R. Personal interview. 15 November 2008.
Burke, K. “From Language as Symbolic Action.” In The Rhetorical Tradition: Readings from Classical Times to the Present. Ed. Bizzell, P. and Herzberg, B. Bedford/ St. Martin’s. Boston. 2001.
Gygax, G., and Arneson, D. Dungeons and Dragons (1st Edition). Tactical Studies Rules. Lake Geneva, WI. 1977
Prensky, M. Digital Game-Based Learning. Paragon House. St. Paul, MN. 2007.
Thott. Thottbot. http://thottbot.com 2005. Accessed 23 October 2008.
Vowell, S. The Word Shipmates (Unabridged Audiobook). Simon & Schuster Audio. New York. 2008.
Wikia. WoWWiki. http://www.wowwiki.com/portal:main 2008. Accessed 23 October 2008.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Videogames and Art, pt. 2

I found an in this last week of readings which seem to address two questions I find interesting, though I'm sure my colleagues have discussed in greater depth.

The first chapter is "The Computer as a Dollhouse," which makes the claim that videogames serve as simply an extension of the games children play during their early years. It makes sense, given that a lot of the metaphors designers use in producing their avatars include many references to dolls and doll houses, such as "rag doll" physics. Additionally, the players play through scenarios, vicariously enjoying the experiences their avatars find themselves in, in much the same way boys and girls play Cowboys and Indians or House. The player is given a chance to experience something different, much like little girls play with their toy babies. No real earth-shattering statements here.

My questions are, in this brief statement:
1) In much the same way we addressed Homo lupens, is videogame play merely an extension of a fantasy realm?
2) Why does it matter that players are allowed to create a fully customizeable avatar in their game of choice? Is this a representation of themselves?

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Videogames and Art, pt. 1

I've enjoyed reading this book, so far. There are plenty of important and interesting concepts on whether or not videogames themselves are art. This, however, does not interest me. What interests me most, especially with regards to the art of videogames, is the art that the player makes using the game as his medium, as a sculptor shapes clay. My primary research interest at this time is in machinima, which recieves a little attention in this book but very little anywhere else.

Lowood's chapter on the history of machinima, as well as Cannon's chapter "Meltdown," both address the act of creating machinima. Lowood explains how machinima came into being, and how the availability of tools, such as Quake's dynamic floating camera, made machinima possible. These procedural choices (rhetorical choices, really) allow gamers the technical freedom to remediate the game technology into their own designs. Cannon suggests that the films that arise from machinima projects fit into the communicative niche of "narrative" or "temporal wallpaper." I think that this is a bit short-sighted, especially given the variety of commercially and independently produced machinima which address a number of topics for a variety of reasons. I would argue that Cannon's genres of machinima are much too general, while a different, more specific classification system would work better to help legitimize the machinima production itself. Perhaps its merely a matter of semantics, but by addressing the many uses of machinima, narrative and abstract, this artistic style would draw more attention from the academic public at large. For example, I delineate three basic genres of "narrative" machinima: industrial-produced instructional videos, commercial entertainment, and user-generated entertainment. Of course there are many other genres out there one could delineate, but these are the three that interest me most and are mentioned most thoroughly in my research.

Questions:
1) Is there a distinction between creating artistic videogame mods and creating machinima? What is that distinction?

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Purposes of Persuasion

In concluding this book, Bogost attempts to draw a final conclusion between the games he's examined and his proposal that the procedures therein either successfully or unsuccessfully persuade the audiences. However, it would seem that the best forms of procedural rhetorics are the ones that act almost subliminally to incite action. Animal Crossing, for example, does not insist that family members play in the same game world, but builds in rewards for doing so. Similarly, WoW has a sub-surface reward system that privileges gamers who play with others, take time away from the game, and work within the system to do things that are not simply grinding mobs.

This second example, WoW's use of procedural rhetorics to encourage responsible and communal gameplay, is the thesis of the seminar paper for this course. I've been working and thinking on it for weeks at this point, and finally feel as though I'm in a position to begin writing.

I've also been preparing questions for Ian Bogost's appearence (if virtually) in class this evening. My biggest questions for him are:

1) To what extent do you think a game's capacity for user generated content, such as machinima or user created maps, exhibit or inhibit the procedurality of the designer's original intent?

2) You've commented on ethics models in RPGs as effective models of how games can teach ethical decisions. Do you think this is more akin to hero quests of classical literature? (Probably will skip this question)

3) In your chapter on procedural literacy, you mention that videogames bridge the gap between costructivism and behaviorism. Could you expand on this claim?

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Values and Aspirations

Ahh, morality meters in games. This entry is a little short, since I feel we've covered several aspects of games espousing a certain set of values throughout the course (America's Army comes to mind... over and over again). However, I do want to make mention of the use of moral accounting, as Bogost calls it, in RPGs. For example, in WoW, players are rewarded for espousing the values of certain factions within the game (destroying their opponents, saving allies from dungeons, providing desired items to "Turn-in" NPCs, etc.) with reputation-based rewards. For example, by battling the undead minions in the Plaguelands, rescuing captured members of the Argent Dawn, and turning in badges of honor, the players receive access to special weapons, armor, or craft recipes.

Similarly, in Mass Effect, selecting or deflecting certain actions or dialogue traits are rewarded later in the game with access to better weapons and quest rewards. Players are influenced in this manner to make their character's actions fit as close to tradtional "good" values as possible, since the rewards make completion of the main story line much easier. Moral accounting in this kind is ubiquitous throughout the gaming community, but most especially in the RPG sector. I believe that this is due to the company's moral integrity constantly being tested by outside influences, such as Congress or community watch groups, who often deride games as "immoral" or "evil." What I don't understand is why the companies don't simply point to these moral and behavioral control systems and say, "Look, we do support innovative and morally-based solutions to problems! You are punished for killing this guy and rewarded for sparing his life!" This is an experience I faced just yesterday while playing Fallout 3. I felt bad when I saw my reckless murdering of an adversary had taken a significant toll on an in-game NPC ally. There are plenty of scenarios in many different games which follow the same basic flow of events. Why, then, does no one talk about it?

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Meta-play, metacognition, and procedural literacy

In beginning a question of education and training, it becomes important to understand what kind of education or training one is referring to. I am more willing to buy into Bogost's argument that videogames tend to teach players not only how to play that game but also how to manipulate systems. I've noticed that different types of games my friends play reflects directly on their professional and educational experience. Those who are more linear thinkers tend to play rail or curtain shooters, while people who have broader game experience tend to work in more diversified fields, such as mechanical engineering or biosystems engineering. Their experiences shape how capable they are with dealing with different kinds of procedures and different experiences, as well as how they process new information into their respective orientations. Players, as Gee explains, situate themselves within the space to solve problems. (p241) I'm reminded of Ender's Game, where children are challenged with increasingly difficult games, each designed to address different thought processes to force the player to make difficult decisions to address unusual circumstances.
In much the same way, players of Grand Theft Auto are given a wide range of procedures to apply to solving the problems in the game. While most (okay, all) of these procedures are highly illegal, the player is still challenged with developing new solutions within the restrictions of the game. For example, when a player runs over someone, a cop may start to chase him. The player can then try to outrun the cop, or back over the dismounted officer, or hide his car in a chop shop and pick up another one, among many other different solutions. There are different consequences for each of these solutions, but the player must decide and weigh the risks and rewards of each approach. A player can apply this same thought process in business or professional study, as Beck and Wade argue. Gamers tend to have better success because they can think more clearly about the system of appropriate responses and then apply that knowledge to the system. Someone who understands more clearly how a system works, having interacted with many different kinds of systems, can more quickly adapt to those systems. One has only to look at my resume to understand that this kind of metacognition works in gamers. I mean, who else can boast that they were debate team captain, a lobbyist, manager of a retail store, and leader of combat troops in two warzones as well as a graduate student? My ability to adapt to changing circumstances may be directly attributed to a wide variety of game experiences, from first person shooters to strategy simulators to Tetris. Ah, validation!

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Advertising, advertising, advertising

In talking about advertising and advergames, a couple of issues and connections seem to spring forward into prominence. Advertising, product placement, broadcast underwriting... these all play a role in today's society. Coming from a political science and pseudo-PR background, it's pretty simple to pick out certain key objects and ad buy-ins that pervade entertainment media today.

Bogost appears to have engaged in an interesting historical retrospective in these chapters, outlining major steps in advertisment games and product placement in games. It would appear that his approach in doing this is to demonstrate that persuasion in games is not limited to the procedures in place, but also by the inclusion or exclusion of certain advertisment aspects. To say that product placement in games is ubiquitous is no mere understatement- one has only to fire up any of the NCAA Football or Madden games on X-Box 360 to be bombarded by any number of major sponsors. If these games feel like watching a football game, it may be because the UnderArmour, Coke, and Gatorade logos are as prevalent as hulking linebackers. These placement attempts may degrade the gaming experience, but once the player realizes that without external assistance from these sponsoring companies the gameplay itself would suffer, it becomes a little easier to understand and handle.

The examples of product placement I find most interesting are the consistent placement of products that simply do not exist. One can enjoy seeing Red Apple cigarettes in Tarentino films, for example, even though this brand of cigarettes doesn't exist. They provide a kind of associative advertising experience, if a negative one as seen in Pulp Fiction. In Mass Effect, weapons manufacturors brand and offer their wares for specific play types. The Halcyon assault rifle is designed for those who want a high rate of fire but reduced accuracy, while the Rapier rifle may provide greater accuracy and hitting power at a reduced rate of fire. Similarly, in Wing Commander III, modern day aircraft manufacturors are billed as the designers for the futuristic exo-atmospheric fighters used to win the war. An argument may be made for the continued success of McDonald-Douglass and Lockheed based on these futuristic visions of their product lines. By associating these companies with successful actions of future (if fictional) engagements, there may be a drive by investors to ensure that these companies continue to succeed.

I would argue that any time a modern weapon system is used in a game, that is an associative, rather than demonstrative, product placement type of advertisement. The weapons demonstrations are not 100% accurate, but the feeling one derives from effectively killing an opponent with a Colt Arms M16 or M4 is definitely a positive ad in favor of the system.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Digital Democracy

Gaming that which shouldn't be gamed has always been an interesting concept for me and my friends. We're wargamers, so we tend to focus on cataclysmic events in human history as examples of man's best traits, as well as man's worst failings. As I read about the kinds of historiographical games and how they each portray different, often highly controversial, views of the progression of human events, it became clear that the procedures in place in these games, such as 9/11 Survivor, Kuma/War, or Waco Revisited are designed to do exactly what I and my friends want to do: make people think about the most unthinkable moments in human history, and then force them to make choices about how they would address those circumstances.

For example, in JFK Reloaded, the player is forced to consider many different approaches to shooting President Kennedy. The physics engine allows for inertia, so shooting the driver is a valid option. Shooting the President directly is also an option, but it is very difficult to reproduce the Warren Commission's three shots as exactly as Oswald was supposed to have done.

In my friends' game design, players are given a set of models and rules to apply to any given situation. Our first example, which we hope to playtest in the next few months, is the Flight 93 scenario. By providing our players with models of the passengers and terrorists, as well as procedures for accounting for passenger fear and terrorist aggression, we hope to demonstrate the kinds of emotions and combat conditions both the terrorists and the passengers faced in their respective roles. As gamers, this appeals to our senses of historical accuracy as well as a kind of voyeurism. We will never know what went through the minds of those passengers and terrorists, but we can approximate it. These procedural choices will hopefully allow players to gain some insight into those high-tension conditions.

The Dean for Iowa Game serves as an example of procedures serving a different purpose. By focusing on the actions of a campaign worker, which is a very difficult task under the best circumstances, the game demonstrates the kinds of outreach activities available to the modern political organizer. I don't think that it's necessarily a bad game, but I do think, as Trundle writes, that the game should have focused more on Dean's positions rather than the difficulty of handing out pamphlets. This game is an example of concept defeating a good game design. This contrasts the games produced by the RNC to support their candidates: While the game design and procedures may seem simple, they at least include information about their campaign's political ideals and approaches.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Responses to Jenkins and spaces in a game

It seems as though we've reached a point in our development through this class where theories of design are gaining more prominence. As such, it makes sense to examine various theories for the design of our projects in the course, and to apply our experiences in games to these design theories (or vice versa...). This is an exciting time, I think.

Incidentally, I spent a great deal of my focus this week thinking about spatial orientation of game elements, and so found the Jenkins article to be the most compelling of our readings for this week. Jenkins' position is that while games may not successfully use classical narrative components as well as films or novels might, and since games are interactive more than they simply story-driven, the game environment plays a greater role in developing the story and the game experience. He makes a strong argument against the Ludologist position that game mechanics are the main theoretical component of games, or that straight narrative analysis needs to be the main focus as the Narratologists would have us believe. Jenkins draws connections between games and science fiction, another form of media which seems to attract negative criticism for failing to adhere to more classical narrative theories. In the case of science fiction, the setting holds sway over the characters' development or the plot progression. In Heinlein's works, for example, much of the page space is taken up describing political climate and social interaction within a futuristic society. His characters, for the most part, are generally flat guides for the environment. However, this does not mean that Starship Troopers isn't an engaging book; this simply means that the focus of this book isn't John Rico's development as a leader so much as it is his trip through the Federation and the Arachnid War. Rico becomes a leader in the Mobile Infantry because his job in the book is to explain how things are in Heinlein's future imperfect. High school, basic training, the battlefields of Clandathu, officer training, service aboard the Rodger Young... all of these settings are the meat the reader experiences through Rico's eyes.

In much the same way we engage in spatial interaction with video game worlds, such as Azeroth or Mars, in the shoes of our mostly mute avatars. In Half-Life, for example, the player engages in conflict as a means of exploring the world and solving a problem or set of problems. He acts upon the environment as a means of solving the embedded narrative, which unfolds as he explores the world, shoots aliens, and tries to figure out what in the hell happened. In this way Bartles' player types can be seen as all attended to through the development of the game's story-world.

What does that have to do with our thing? It is the task of the Woolf World team to develop a virtual representation of modernist London to the exacting specifications of Woolf scholars, who will, I'm certain, be looking for any reason to pan our work. In order to build a successful learning experience for the visitors to our project, we will need to borrow heavily from the spatial eccentricities Jenkins advocates for his game experiences, as well as the kinds of spatial divides Aarseth describes as existing in WoW. We can't build England, but we can build the neighborhoods we want to describe, and we can build an interesting and engaging virtual spatial experience.

...I think we can, anyway. I keep thinking of rivers and mountains. I think that will figure prominently. Needless to say, I'll be focusing primarily on the "game world" and narrative progression of the design document. After all, isn't that what games are all about?

Freyaday in repose


Allow me to introduce Freyaday. Her name comes from a modification of the name Friday, a female courier in the Heinlein book of the same name. Here, we can see that she has just completed a quest and is standing before some huge crystalized tree thing.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Reflections on WoW

I've been playing World of Warcraft for about two years at this point, and I've never been able to get a character to level 70 in all that time. This is probably due to the fact that, until recently, I played exclusively by myself. I just saw no need to find a buddy to play with, since most of my friends played on different servers or stopped playing by the time I go on the bandwagon. However, over the past several days, my roommate and I have begun playing WoW together for a couple of hours each day and having a much greater time at it. We are able to progress through the beginning quests very quickly, taking on harder and harder mobs, in larger groups, with less effort than I used to apply in solo play.

In thinking about group play versus solo play, I began to see several procedures in the game design that benefit from playing well with others. Instance raids and group quests aside, I found that basic quests, trade progression, and producing a survivable character became much easier, and more enjoyable, when playing with another player. From creating rare arcanite items to successfully defeating an elite mob without burning a lot of high-level spells and potions, the game is geared to benefit sociable players. As I said in my previous post, this is what I will be investigating in the paper for this class. Procedures in World of Warcraft influence and privilege team play.

Ideological Frames and WoW

In examining the ideological framing of Vagrancy and Tax Invaders (not to mention the myriad examples of conservative taxation propaganda that consistently returns to the Space Invaders play style... are they seriously unaware of the past twenty-plus years of videogame development?), it is easy to see how political ideology can be expressed in a game environment to persuade people to take action. In GTA:SA an obvious connection may be made between eating fatty foods and getting fat, and the social ramifications that follow such a course of action. The ideologies these games warn against, as well as the ideological constructs they reinforce, are made self-evident by the presence or absence of procedures to address and control them. Bogost goes even further to explain how contextual decisions frame the ideological controlling procedures in these games, and draws specific attention to how context can emphasize or demean the ideologies.

In Bushgame, for example, the player controls all-American heroes in a quest against the "evil Republican Empire," embodied by Voltron. While this may seem comical, it is clear after playing for a few minutes that these design choices combine to produce a context where the ineffective economic approaches the Bush administration took in the first term may be seen as unbelievable. Something as absurd as a giant combining fighting robot representing the Bush administration's approach to support the Bush tax cuts (among other administrative decisions), not to mention the use of giant fighting robot versions of key cabinent members and political appointees (Giant Fighting Karl Rove is easily my favorite, though the FCC chairman piloting Janet Jackson's breast is a close second), does not seem that far fetched when augmented by instructional vignettes designed to provide information about the Bush administration's tax plan and the bodies that benefit. While the player characters, including Fat-Ass He-Man or Christopher Reeves, seem ill-matched to combat these enemies, the game's procedural message is clear: the entire situation is absurd, so we must do the best we can.

What does all of this have to do with World of Warcraft? This is what I will be investigating in my research paper for this class. In essence, my argument is that WoW uses procedural controls and ideological frames, among other procedural devices, to advocate cooperative play styles. Players are much more successful, in regards to quest progression, level progression, and trade progression, when they play with a varied group of player characters than they are playing strictly solo. The control interface, the character limitations, trade professions, and quest structure are all geared toward cooperative play, especially in higher level encounters.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

World of Warcraft and analysis

I've been playing WoW for about two years now, and it's easily one of the most fun gaming experiences I've had. My friends have a running joke that I'm getting a Master's in WoW, or that I get paid for playing WoW. While I can't honestly say that either of these statements is wholly true or false, I can say that by examining the various aspects of MMOs in general and WoW in particular, my development as a student of digital rhetoric has been substantially furthered.

For example, in Klastrup's chapter on death in WoW, the argument is pro-offered that dying in the game provides a clear penalty for reckless play, but is also a social event. In a game experience, especially one in a community, dying becomes a rite of passage or a joke, more than a painful experience. There is a palpable penalty attached to dying, of course, but in a heroic game such as WoW it makes sense that the player is given many opportunities to succeed, despite such minor setbacks as being horribly murdered.

I found Aarseth's chapter about the spatial experiences of WoW to be the most interesting chapter we read today. It is a strange realization that the game world is comparatively small, but that it is completely understandable to spend multiple days of gameplay exploring all of it. It is an interesting piece of procedural rhetoric to build a fractured, compartmentalized gameworld. The player is never really exposed to how small the gameworld is, but rather finds it expansive. This is because the primary mode of locomotion is foot travel for the first few levels, with beasts of burden accellerating the travel experience later on. It would be a very different and less engaging game if the gameworld were the size of the United States, with real-world travel conditions. By building the gameworld on a smaller scale, the designers made the game playable for casual and die-hard gamers. Additonally, by building natural divisions between the various regions of the gameworld, the player never really feels limited by the comparatively small gameworld. Running from one corner of Westfall to another is tiring, even though you are only moving a few hundred yards. The procedure at play here is the suspension of disbelief, which is critical to building a game as engaging and enjoyable as possible. If the developers need to take a few liberties with distance, then that's perfectly understandable.

As a rich text experience, Krzywinska's chapter explains the combination of fantasy components that creates WoW. In building a game experience that is a rich as one finds in WoW, the developers combined aspects of Tolkein and Jordan's game worlds, among others, to build a cohesive piece of geek culture. Holidays, quest designs, play areas based on fantastic settings, and even NPC names all play a role in welcoming a geek to a full game experience. As a gamer and self-styled geek, having a common background to share with my fellow gamers, which is expressed throughout the gameworld, helped draw me into WoW.

A brief note about the scholarly analysis of game experiences in WoW: You really have to play WoW to understand it. You have to have been slaughtered by a mob of murlocs, or ganked a gnoll, or pulled Petunia away from her hog bodyguards, in order to best understand what is going on in the game. You can read about it all day long, but until you've cast arcane missile against a mob, you really can't know what the game is about.

As for the question of whether or not WoW is a persuasive game, I can't say. I can see the control choices, such as limiting the hotkey interface to twelve options (in a game where, using modifications, a player can display as many as fifty control icons) force the player to specialize his character's playstyle. I can see the proliferation of group quests and instances, where individual players are doomed to failure, as a persuasive procedure to emphasize the community nature of the game. These choices are clearly rhetorical devices, but I don't know that I could say that the game itself is persuasive. I'd like for us to talk about this in greater depth during class today.

LEEROY JENKINS!!!

Because it will come up in our conversation, and because it's a pivotal event in the evolution of WoW as a game platform, here's a video. (Taken from YouTube)

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Politics and procedural rhetoric

The control interface choices a developer makes in producing a politically-minded game often says more about the issue he is addressing than the graphics or other aspects. By allowing some control types while limiting or eliminating others, the developer forces the player to interact with the issue on different levels. Bogost explains that these choices of procedure are integral in building a successful argument.

The best way for me to explain how I see this is through example. In September 12, the player is given command of a remote targeting device and no clear explanation of how to fight terror. If the player chooses to shoot a terrorist, the game displays a cruise missile flying into the terrorist and destroying the surrounding area. Upon impact, anything within the blast zone of the missile is destroyed, including civilians and civilian structures. Civilians wandering around the map see the devastation and become terrorists, and the cycle repeats. This game, Bogost explains, limits the player's interaction to either shoot with a cruise missile to kill tiny terrorists... or not. It says something about the US doctrine of surgical precision strikes against individuals. I think the game would have been even more engaging if there were a counter that measured the cost of the strikes to both the US and to the village, in both lives lost and dollar value.

I found Darfur is Dying to be a much more engaging and innovative approach to political gaming. Again, the interface is simple, but the gameplay dynamics are much more complex. In order to stave off attacks by the militia against your village, you have to actively contact members of Congress or the President to stop the conflict in Darfur. The actions of your avatar are so limited that you, the player, have to break the fourth wall and engage in real-world political activities to help your virtual village survive. This game presented a very interesting, if overly simplified, example of macropolitics effecting smaller scale environments. Also, by not addressing the underlying causes of the conflict, the creators have developed more childish interface. Since your avatars are children, they most likely do not understand why the militia is trying to kill them; only that the bad guys in trucks are actively hunting, and to be caught by them is very bad. When the village is attacked, the player's avatar, usually a small child, has to rebuild the village and try to get crops growing again. Outside support becomes the most important aspect of the game, since the "Take Action Now" button reinforces all village stats and helps the player reach a more successful conclusion.

Consequences of action, such as those found in September 12 and Darfur is Dying allow the player to understand that certain actions provide certain results, and that those actions should be reinforced both in the game world and the real world. These kinds of controls are procedural rhetorics at their core. I wonder, then, how much of this can be translated to non-political or non-persuasive games?

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Procedural Rhetoric

Preface: I know this analysis and response is going to seem simplistic as compared to other analyses, but given the analytical tools available, it's the best I can do.

It appears that Bogost proposes that by developing or limiting the controlling options available to the end user, the game developer advocates a certain level of interaction or player experience. His analysis of GTA III, for example, demonstrates that the player is all but forced to engage in subversive actions as opposed to more socially acceptable approaches. The PC cannot directly interact with most NPCs (the exception being quest givers, who provide insight into the game through brief machinima presentations). However, the player can kill anyone and take their money, weapons, and/or car. The game world is dynamic and open-ended, but the actions the player can take are limited by the developers to keep the key gameplay aspect, anti-social behavior, alive throughout the gaming experience.

Similarly, in the McDonald's Game, which I played in preparation for this class, the key to success lies in inappropriate corporate behavior. Playing the game according to "the rules" of proper corporate conduct, such as paying fair wages or using safe and environmentally sound farming practices, almost directly results in failure. Where it costs $5000 to develop a pasture on clear ground, it costs only $3000 to bulldoze old growth rain forests or native villages and develop that tract into farm land. Rewarding an employee is much less effective than firing one and hiring a replacement. The controls do not allow for raises for employees or safe farming practices in most cases, which limits your options. In essence, you are forced to make bad decisions and live with the consequences.

These kinds of controls remind me of both Foucault's and Burke's discussions on rhetorical controls and orientations, respectively. Foucault, for example, explains that conforming with the established social constructions of how things are done is reinforced by several nodes of authority in a network of social control. Failure to comply with these often unwritten controls results in the member of the society being ostracized or labeled "crazy." Further, the public internalizes these controls through a network of reinforcements, both external and internal. Breaking these internalized controls is difficult and painful, and therefore is often not undertaken. In the case of games, having a finite and anticipated number of control commands or opportunities for interaction feels normal. By offering a large number of options for interaction, such as is demonstrated in GTA IV or the Elder Scrolls series of games, the player may become confused or discouraged from further play. There simply are too many options available.

Burke's explanation of terministic screens and orientation also lends to the discussion of procedural rhetoric. Orientation, in this case, refers to the accepted perspective of the end user. That which occurs within the normal orientation of a gamer in a game setting, such as shooting a cab driver in the face and stealing his car, feels right. Paying for the cab ride does not, so it was not included in early iterations of the GTA game series. Alternately, in the McDonald's game, the player is offered only a select number of options for each challenge which he encounters. Solutions outside those control configurations are not allowed, so the player is forced to adopt the orientation of a vicious corporate controller and take otherwise despicable actions in order to succeed at the game.

In both of these cases, the procedures of the game are designed to espouse a very specific paradigm of gameplay and build a strong rhetorical example of how the player must interact. Persuasive games, according to Bogost, use procedural rhetoric to convince the audience that a certain course of action is appropriate. For example, in the Tax Invaders game, the player is encouraged to avoid tax collectors while collecting money. This game, produced to support the Republican party's program of tax cuts, advocates tax evasion in favor of personal wealth. By keeping keeping the game experience on message, the player may find himself more likely to support tax cuts based on a negative experience in the game. The game itself did not state that taxes were bad, but in order to successfully complete the game, the player has to internalize this notion, which is reinforced throughout the game experience.

Unfortunately, I can see that this line of thinking can result in the kind of negative attention espoused by Jack Thompson and the anti-gaming politicians. Games such as GTA IV can be construed as advocating violent solutions to problems.

1) How can a pro-gaming advocate explain the arguements in favor of procedural rhetorics without opening the window for traditional anti-gaming arguments?

2) What other definitions of rhetoric are effective at explaining Bogost's idea of procedural rhetoric?